


Never Going Back Again

by FancyKid



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Lots of Beer, Notice the lack of a slow burn tag?, Russian Roulette, Smut, definitely yes to lemons, lemons on the horizon?, probably yes, sansan, updating tags right now soooo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-21 08:45:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6045274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyKid/pseuds/FancyKid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Mondern Au.Sandor has been in a long term romantic relationship with Osha for four years. They have much in common and care about each other, but they share more of a friendship than a sizzling relationship. Sansa hasn't been in a romantic relationship for two years, since she decided she couldn't handle another romance after her husband Aegon left her for another woman. When Sansa and Sandor end up having to share a booth at the local pub one night, everything changes for them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Here's to Poor Timing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosehustle1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosehustle1/gifts).



> Originally written for Rosehustle1 on the Sansa x Sandor Livejournal page for the 6th round of Russian Roulette! Title is inspired by my favorite Fleetwood Mac song. This is my very first Sansan Modern AU and it was so much fun! I'm sure I will continue it at some point. I can't resist!

**Sansa _:_** _I hate you._

**Randa:** _Oh God. What did he do?_

 **Sansa:** _He stood me up._

 **Randa:** _No he didn’t._

Sansa sighed and took a photo of the empty side of the booth across from her. She sent it to Myranda, proof of Harry’s absence.

 **Randa:** _Shit. I’m so sorry Sansa. I am going to rip him a new one at work on Monday I swear!_

**Sansa:** _Don’t bother. I never should have agreed to this anyway. It’s too soon._

**Randa:** _Too soon??? Sansa it’s been TWO YEARS! I finally get you to agree to a date and he STOOD YOU UP?! Unacceptable. He’s dead._

Sansa turned her phone over and picked up her drink. She had been waiting so long that the pub had gotten crowded. She sipped at her drink, regretting coming out at all. She knew she was right. It _was_ too soon.

Sansa felt her phone vibrate under her hand and reluctantly flipped it over. She could practically hear Randa’s voice soften. _Are you still there? Should I come meet you?_

Sansa answered immediately. _It’s alright. I’m leaving._

The throng of people started to enclose around her booth. She saw a girl eyeing her up, clearly waiting for Sansa to give up the valuable booth. _Vulture._ Sansa tipped her glass back and downed the rest of her drink. She started scooting out of the booth, but an enormous figure broke through the mass and slammed himself down into the seat across from her.

The man didn’t even take notice of her. Sansa felt frozen to the seat as she watched him. He was on the phone, his head down, and she could still see grotesque burns on the side of his face, though he tried to hide behind his black hair. The burns were harsh, but Sansa couldn’t get over the hideousness of the old red flannel he wore.

“Osha?” He yelled into the phone. “I can hear you now.” He sighed and put his hand in his hair. “So this is really happening, huh? We’re finally breaking up?”

Sansa felt her eyes widen. _Okay, time to go._ Sansa slid down the bench but was stopped by the now impassible wall of people standing in her way. There was no getting through, not on her own. She had no choice - she had to stay and listen to this strange man break up with his girlfriend.

“Yea, we know it’s been coming...I know…yea…of course you’ll still be my best friend. That’s all we’ve ever really been isn’t it?” Then he _laughed_. The man laughed! “I know. Love you too.”

_What? Love? Is he breaking up with her or not?_

Sansa wondered if she said it out loud - he finally looked up and caught her eye. It seemed like he only just realized she was there. Sansa blinked and looked down at her empty glass. “Sure.” He muttered into the phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Sansa looked up again as he smacked his phone down on the table. “Fuck.” He groaned. It was strange how he didn’t look necessarily upset. More _exhausted_ , really. He looked up at Sansa who was still stuck like a deer in the headlights. “Sorry.” He rasped. “Wasn’t expecting that to happen. Well…I was. Just - not right now. I guess.”

His brow furrowed and he looked back down at his phone looking like a lost puppy. And then it clicked. _Oh. I see._ She couldn’t help herself. “Is that how you pick up all the girls?”

The man squinted at her. “Excuse me?”

“You barge in on a girl alone and you just so happen to break up with your _girlfriend_ on the phone in front of her. Do you want me to feel bad? Is that how it usually works?”

With every word he said, the more affronted the man looked. “Look I’m sorry for disturbing you. I just needed to find someplace quiet.” And he moved to leave.

 _Sansa, you bitch._ She could see on his face just how wrong she had been. “Wait.” She stopped him. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize. _You_ didn’t just break up with me.” Sansa chewed her lip, not sure of how to continue – or rather, if she should at all. But he went on, a strange smirk on his face. “Weird to realize that I’ve spent four years with this woman and the whole time we’ve really only ever been friends.” He paused and shrugged his massive shoulders. “I can’t help but think it might have been a waste of time.”

“Oh trust me I know a waste of time when I see one. How about getting stood up after going out on my own for the first time in two years since my good-for-nothing husband up and left me for another woman?”

The man’s eyes widened across from her. “Touché.” They were both quiet for a minute and only then did Sansa realize just how loud the whole pub had become. “Well, let’s say we have a drink.”

Sansa glanced down to her empty glass. “I already had one.”

He grabbed her glass and stuck his nose inside, screwing his face up in disgust. “A little lemon drop for a little bird.” He laughed again and Sansa felt a strange warmth in her chest at the sound. “You need something better than that.”

He stood up so fast that he knocked into the table and pushed it closer to her. Sansa noticed that he was tall enough to see over the crowd. He waved in the direction of the bar. “Hey Bronn!”  His horrible shirt lifted as he raised his arm over his head and Sansa found herself staring at the space of his hard stomach that exposed itself right at her eye level. “Get me two – “ He glanced down and Sansa looked up to meet his eye. But she was too late. She was caught. He only smirked at her again before turning away. “Make that six flaming wights! Three extinguished!”

He dropped down heavily into the seat and stuck out his enormous hand. “I’m Sandor.”

Sansa swallowed the lump in her throat. “Sansa.” She gave him her hand and it was quickly lost inside of his. His eyes were grey. She could see that now as he held her gaze.

Their silence was interrupted when the grungy bartender pushed through the crowd with a tray of shot glasses, half of which were on fire. “Am I supposed to drink that!?” She heard herself shout.

“Well, _I’m_ certainly not.” Sandor laughed gesturing to his scars - scars that Sansa only just remembered were there.

Sandor distributed the shots took one free of fire and held it up to her. “Here’s too our miserable luck in love and our significantly poor timing.”

Sansa knocked her glass into his, bit back her trepidation and swallowed the flaming shot. As the liquid burned down her throat she watched the curious man across from her. She couldn’t help but wonder - maybe her timing wasn’t so poor after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flaming Wights borrowed from Jennilynn411 and Direwaggle42's Stars Over Essos! Here is the recipe courtesy of AngryTimeLadyClara: Overproof white rum, vanilla rum and blue curacao. And I quote: "Mix that shit up and light it on fire!"
> 
> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! :)
> 
> P.S. Let me know if you liked it and if you think I should continue!! I'm thinking a real short and sweet thing!
> 
> Update 11:26 PM 2/17/16: I'm continuing it. Planned it all out. Going to be beer involved. And tacos. And someone else's wedding. 13 chapters. This...THIS...is why I can get nothing done.


	2. Is this flirting?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two are very chatty. I don't know what is happening.  
> Take note: This Sandor is, like, a friendly human at times. Just… you’ll see.

The first thing Sansa did was blow out the other shots. The alcohol burned enough on its own without the flame. She held back a cough and mirrored the man across from her to take the second shot. He managed to swig it down as though it were water, and she was sure the smirk on his face was a result of watching a shiver run through her.

“Rum?” She sputtered out. “You like rum?”

“No.” Sandor laughed. “But I find that rum coats the stomach before the real drinking starts.”

“You plan on drinking heavily tonight?”

He lifted his third shot glass and Sansa did the same. “What if I do?”

Sansa beat him to it this time and managed not to shudder as the sweet liquid rolled into her stomach. When she was finished, she cleared her throat and sat back into the booth, looking once more at her new drinking partner. “Well, you know why I came out tonight. Why did you?”

Sandor did the same and looked at her contemplatively. “Bronn’s last night at the bar. Wanted me to be here.”

The mangy bartender who brought them their shots, she remembered. “He’s your friend?”

“For some strange reason, yes.”

“So why is he leaving the bar?”

“He’s coming to work for me.”

“For you? Why, what do you do?”

It was a moment before he responded. Sansa got the impression that he might be reluctant to talk about himself, but then he finally answered. “I own a brewery. I’m actually opening up a bar.”

“A brewery. Like…beer.”

A slow smile spread across his mouth. “Yes. Like beer.”

 _Stupid. Obviously beer._ The rum must have been working too quickly on her brain. “Well that’s interesting. When is all of this happening?”

“A couple weeks.”

“How exciting!” Sandor gave her a reluctant smile, as something clicked in her brain. “Wait. Three Dog… Three Dog Knight?”

“Yeah.” He looked at her incredulously. “You’ve heard of it?”

“Well, not exactly. I don’t really drink much beer if I’m being completely honest.” _Unless it’s all Gendry has in the apartment and I’m desperate._ “But I did see it on my way in. It’s a couple of blocks away isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“I think I remember the logo. A shield?” He nodded, encouraging her. “Three black dogs?”

“That’s the one!” A genuine surprised smile on his face.

“Hmm. I’ve never met a brewery owner before.”

Sandor laughed, but he seemed eager to get the attention off of himself. “So what about you? What do you do when you’re not drinking sweet lemony cocktails or waiting for your knight in shining armor?”

“Hey.” Sansa heard herself whine. Sandor just raised his eyebrow in defense and she couldn’t truly say she was offended, so she answered him. “I’m a veterinary technician. And a dog walker.”

Sandor gave her an appropriating look. “Like dogs, huh?”

“Very much.”

“I have a dog.”

Sansa gasped. “You do!”

“I do.”

“Does he or she need to be walked Monday through Friday from nine in the morning to one in the afternoon?”

He laughed. “Probably. Though I don’t think you’d be able to handle him.”

Sansa waved her hand at him and then worked on ticking off her fingers. “I’ll have you know, my daily customers consist of my sister’s husky, one lab, one hot dog, and two medium sized mutts. Oh and a yorkie.”

“That’s quite a group.”

“It is.”

“How do you handle all of them at once?”

“You’re not the only one made of muscle my friend.”

Sandor smirked at her, and Sansa felt her cheeks flame up. _Gods what am I saying? I don’t talk like this. I don’t flirt. Is this flirting?_ When Sandor reached across the table and wrapped his fingers around her slender arm to tease her, she realized – _yes. This is flirting._

 

\---

 

“ _Twice?_ What do you mean she kicked his ass _twice_?”

Sansa was laughing so hard she had to wrap her arms around her middle to hold herself together. When she found out what Arya had done to her ex-husband she was furiously embarrassed. But thinking about it now with Sandor - it was just hysterical.

“Your husband was a little man was he?”

Sansa chuckled. “Not really, no.”

Sandor shook his head and crossed his arms over his massive chest. _Gods. Whoever knew I could be so attracted to forearms._ “So she kicked his ass _twice_?” He asked again.

“Once, right after she found out what he did. The second time was when she saw him with her.”

Sandor inclined his head. “Her?”

Sansa swallowed before she said the name. “Margaery Tyrell.”

Sandor nodded slowly. “Sounds like a real bitch.”

Sansa nodded, not finding it in herself to laugh, the mood changed so quickly. “She wasn’t, well, not to me at least. Not until then. She was my best friend.”

“Fuck.” Sandor leaned away and turned his head. His eyes darted around for a moment before he stood up abruptly and pushed himself through the crowd.

“Oh.” _Too much information, Sansa. Great job, you went and scared him off. He wouldn’t give a shit about your stupid broken heart._ After a few moments, she looked up and the same vulture girl had appeared again, just waiting for Sansa to finally give up her seat. Almost did, too, until Sandor showed up again holding two glasses filled with-

“Bourbon.” He announced, shouldering past the seat stealing vultures.

“Bourbon?”

“Yes, bourbon.” He shuffled himself back into his seat and sat heavily, dropping one glass in front of her. “It’s time.”

“Oh is it?” She laughed. “Time for what?”

“Time to stop _thinking_ about our shit luck.” He lifted his glass to her. “And this will help.”

Sansa groaned and clinked her glass with his. She sipped at her bourbon while he gulped down half of his own.

He put his glass down and looked at her. “So, your _sister_. Your _little_ _sister_.”

“Little in every sense of the word I can assure you.” Sansa nodded as the liquor worked its way into her warming veins. A better burn that the flaming shots. Though perhaps that was just because it was her fifth drink of the night.

“Oh, I’d love to meet her.” Sansa felt herself smile again, knowing that Arya would probably like this guy quite a bit. “So who’s this fool that stood you up.”

Sansa took another sip and leaned back in the booth, enjoying the warmth flooding through her veins. “It was all set up by my friend Randa. She works with the guy.”

Sandor leaned forward again. “Does he know what you look like? I mean, did the man see a photo of you?” There was no laugh in his question. He was genuinely curious.

Sansa ignored different feeling of warmth that crept up her neck and shrugged again. “I’m not sure. I would assume so. She showed me one of him.”

His eyes widened. “Let’s see him.”

Sansa couldn’t say what made her do it, the man had no business knowing any of this, but soon she was rifling through old messages with Randa to find a photo of Harry. She handed Sandor the phone and he examined the photo himself. “Hmm.” He handed it back. “Let’s see your ex.”

Sansa paused for a moment before sighing and looking through her photos. She didn’t know why she hadn’t deleted her old pictures yet. She wasn’t the type to torture herself, crying herself to sleep swiping through ancient memories of happy times. Not anymore anyway. It had been two years since Egg left her, but it wasn’t as if her phone was filling up with shots of new memories. Sansa didn’t have anything to take pictures of besides dog shit.

She finally found a photo she had taken of Egg on a quiet night at home. It was from early on in their marriage. He was pouring a glass of wine for her and she snapped a picture of him. She remembered the way he smiled when he heard the click of the snap. She handed the phone to Sandor to stop herself from thinking on how the rest of the night went.

“There’s a theme here, I’m noticing.” He murmured speculatively.

“A theme?”

Sandor ignored her and handed the phone back again. “Got any others? Old boyfriends and the like?”

“Wait. You haven’t seen anything yet.” Sansa snatched her phone away and searched the name she never let herself think of. “This was my first boyfriend.” She turned her phone toward him.

Sandor squinted at the mugshot on the phone and then sat back quickly in his seat. “Fuck me.” He ran a hand over his face. “You dated Joffrey Baratheon.”

Sansa froze, and put her phone down on the table. “…Yes. You…you know Joffrey?”

“Used to work for the Lannisters.”

Once Sansa picked her jaw up off of the table, they got to figuring it all out. Sansa had dated Joff during the last year of high school. He was beautiful, charming and made her feel like she was lucky for having been the one he chose. She almost didn’t realize it was happening, how controlling he had become. Margaery had helped her with that. Together, the two worked to push away from Joffrey before he could truly destroy her. Sandor had been hired by Cersei as her precious son’s personal body guard after his college roommate made a threat against him in the next year, worked for him for three more after that. But luckily, he too got away in time to start his own business. Soon after, the Lannister’s trading company had turned up fraudulent. Joffrey, his mother and his grandfather were now imprisoned, but Sansa could never bring herself to look too much into it. The creep and his family all got what they deserved.

“What a small world.” Sansa heard him murmur.

“Infinitesimal.” Sansa sighed. She never let herself think about Joff now, but this was just too strange. What were the odds that she and this perfect stranger would have such a connection? Such an awful mutual association, but it made her look at him differently. _He’s probably the only person I’ve ever met who might truly understand what it was like to be under his control._

Sandor looked at her and something crossed over his eyes. He shook his head and took a breath. “Let’s not think about him.”

Sansa straightened up in her booth and put thoughts of wormy lips away. “Agreed.”

“So, blonde. That’s your type.” Sandor confirmed for himself, squinting his eyes. “And a little wimpy?”

Sansa tilted her head. “Wimpy?”

“Wimpy.”

Sansa felt her face scrunch up. _Wimpy_? She never really considered any of these men wimpy. Weak minded and weak willed, but not physically weak. She supposed every man must appear wimpy to Sandor. Still, she’d never consider herself to have a type, but now that Sandor pointed it out…

“You seem to forget that I worked for the boy for three years.” Sandor went on. “It was my job to keep him safe. To keep him away from the things he was afraid of. And you just said it yourself - your little sister kicked your ex’s ass.”

“Twice.” Sansa corrected, trying to hide the smirk on her lips.

“Maybe it’s time for something different.” His eyes were serious, his deep voice the only thing she could hear in the crowded bar. “Someone tall. Dark. Handsome.”

 _Yes. Yes. And yes._ Sansa found herself nodding at him with every word he said. She noticed that she leaned forward slightly, losing herself in his grey eyes. Then the look in them changed and they shifted to something behind her. “Someone like that guy.” He pointed over her shoulder and before she could stop herself, Sansa doubled over the table in laughter.

“I’m serious!” Sandor made her sit back up and turned her gently toward the man. “Look!”

Sansa had to bite her lip when she finally saw the man Sandor was referring to. She was sure she could get this man’s attention, even if he was sitting with another woman.

It did sting a little, that this guy was already trying to pawn her off on someone else. _Don’t guys on the rebound usually go for the first girl they see?_ _Well, it’s obvious he_ is _still in love with his girlfriend._ He even told her as much on the phone. Sansa sighed resolutely - she had already been disappointed once tonight. She wasn’t going to let this get to her too. The optimistic side of her brain argued against her self-consciousness. _Or maybe he just doesn’t think I would actually be interested in him. Only one way to find out._

Sansa felt a jolt of excitement in her stomach as she turned back to him, chewing on her lip. “You think so?” She asked him, trying to remain innocent.

Something flashed in his eyes for half a moment before he blinked and nodded. “I do. Would you like some help?”

So she was right after all. She could see, with that brief look, that he _was_ interested in her. Almost like he might have wished he didn’t make the joke in the first place. She knew now that he probably was expecting her to back down. But no. There was no way Sansa was about to let this stranger beat her in a game of chicken.

“Yes. Please.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. She’d never been a great liar, but from the look on Sandor’s face, he was none the wiser. “I couldn’t bear to go over and talk to him on my own.”

“All right.” He raised his eyebrow at her, giving her one more chance to back out. “Let’s go.”

Sansa hid her smirk as Sandor pushed through the wall of people, that vulture girl from before snagging her seat as soon as Sansa managed to squeeze out of it. Sandor grabbed her hand and led the way through the mass of people. She could see once again how he stood at least a head over anyone at the bar. His hand was strong, but gentle as he pulled her along. Calloused, but warm as it enveloped her entire hand. She pushed the thought away and listened to him shouting over the crowd and music. “Coming through, coming through! Lady on a mission here, watch out!” Sansa reddened, knowing full well that this was his way to embarrass her, to make her change her mind. _If only he knew._

They finally broke through the crowd and reached the area of high top tables. It was still absurdly crowded, but at least the two of them were able to move without pushing into anyone. The man in question sat at one of the tables with a pretty blonde.

“He’s definitely with someone!” Sansa whined, tugging back at his hand.

“And she’s not as pretty as you.” Sandor pulled her around in front of him and pointed once more. He let go of her with a gentle nudge and she found herself maneuvering through the tables to reach her target. He was still probably expecting her to turn around and give up, but she would do no such thing. Even though it was a short walk, Sansa realized that she was really quite drunk. _Glad I didn’t go for heels tonight_ , she thought as she made her way through the high tops. She was suddenly self-conscious of the yellow sundress she chose to wear that night, feeling Sandor’s eyes burning into her back. _Ugh it’s so obnoxious, and a little short._ She tugged at the hem. _Great. Now he’s probably staring at my ass._

As she got closer, Sansa took in the sight of the man’s dark hair, his grey eyes, the look on his face when he saw her coming toward him.

His eyes brightened and his smile widened as he reached for her. “What are you doing here?”

Sansa went in for the hug and kissed Jon on the cheek. “I was supposed to meet a friend, but I found a new one instead. “She turned on her heel with her arm around Jon’s shoulders. The look on Sandor’s face was better than she could have hoped for; the way his eyes widened, his jaw slackened. She couldn’t help but laugh out loud as she waved him over.

“Sansa!” Val tugged on her arm and Sansa made her way to the other side of the table.

“It’s been weeks! How are you two? How is the planning going?”

“Very well, actually! Finally have everything settled with the venue.”

“Awesome. Anything I can do to help, please just let me know. I am a bridesmaid after all!”

“I know, I know. But you know me. No fuss. I don’t want to bother anyone.”

“Bother me. Gods please, I need something to do other than clean up dog sh-”

Jon coughed and brought Sansa back to the here and now – the large scarred man suddenly standing near them, looming in a hideous old flannel with his enormous hands in his pockets.

“Jon, Val, this is Sandor.”

Jon stuck out his hand first and shook Sandor’s. Sansa wondered for a moment what he might make of Sandor’s face, but as a veteran of war, Jon was used to seeing scars.

“Sandor, Jon is my bro – cousin. Sorry.” Sandor narrowed his eyes.

Jon shook his head. “I was about to say the same. So strange.”

How much should she continue to tell this perfectly good stranger about her confusing and baffling life? The rum and bourbon inside of her made the decision. “Funny story. We thought we were half-brother and sister for most of our lives, but then we found out we were only cousins.”

Val gestured out the rest animatedly. “Then she married his real half-brother, so they were kind of brother and sister again, but now she’s divorced so they’re just back to being cousins…” She left the end off as if a question.

Sandor smirked and shrugged. “Well, it makes no difference to me. My family is more fucked up than you can imagine, so I still win.”

Jon laughed and Sansa felt herself smile again. Jon and Val made room for Sansa and Sandor at the table and ordered some more drinks. Sandor gave her a look when she first sipped at her second lemon drop, but she jokingly turned her nose up at him as he started striking up a conversation with Jon.

Val was a little like Arya, tough as nails from life in the military with Jon, but like Sansa in that she actually enjoyed girly things. Val was flipping through photos of bridesmaids dresses on her phone, deleting the ones Sansa thought clashed with Val’s dress. Every now and then she glanced at Sandor getting on quite well with Jon.

“Hey.” Her cousin called. Sansa looked up and saw that her cousin was pointing to something behind her. “A dartboard opened up.”

Sansa stood up so fast that she had to grip onto the table to keep her balance. Sandor caught her elbow to help her, his hand as warm as the blush that invaded her features. “I’m alright.” She looked up at Sandor. “Believe it or not, I play better when I’m drunk.”

They had found an open dartboard and got to work - the girls against the guys. Sansa and Val had shocked the men by winning the first round. Sandor claimed they were swindled, but Sansa just teased that he had no right to assume he would beat her. The guys won the second round by a hair. Sansa wasn’t usually a competitive person - that was Arya’s expertise - but for some reason, probably the alcohol flooding her system, she just _needed_ to beat Sandor. She suggested best two out of three, but Jon and Val exchanged a look and Sansa knew they were going to be on their own again. They made their excuses about how draining wedding planning is, said their goodbyes and went on their way.

“Well we can’t leave it at that.” Sansa whined with her hands on her hips.

“We don’t have to.” Sandor swiped the dart she was holding out of her hand. “How about, whoever wins this last one gets to choose what the loser drinks next.”

“Hey, I drank what you got for me all night without a complaint!”

Sandor stepped so close to her that she had to look directly up to still see his eyes, she could feel his breath on her face. She felt dizzy all over again, but it couldn’t just be from the alcohol this time. “Then you’ll have to try to beat me to get your chance at revenge.” He turned on his heel and made himself ready to play. “A fat chance,” he muttered, shooting a cheeky look at her, “but a chance all the same.”

 

\---

 

“Oh come on, big man! What are you, afraid?”

Sandor grimaced at the glassful of lemony goodness before finally shooting it back, downing the whole drink in just two gulps. He slammed the delicate glass down on the bar top and shot it back with the scotch he ordered to chase it.

“Ugh.” The grimace returned to his face and Sansa couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her mouth.

“Oh don’t be such a baby!”

Sandor pushed his stool away from the bar.

“Where are you going?” She stopped him with a hand on his arm. He looked down at it and back up at her.

“Bathroom.”

“Oh.” Sansa snatched her hand away and felt herself blush again. _Get a grip, woman!_ Sandor smirked at her once more before turning away and heading off.

Bronn came back over just as he walked away. “Last call. What else can I get you?”

Sansa didn’t realize how late it was until that moment. There was only a scant amount of people left in the bar compared to how it was before. “Just a water please.” Sansa sighed and leaned heavily on the bar as Bronn filled a glass full of water for her. She had met him earlier, when she proudly ordered a lemon drop for his friend. Now he eyed her, leaning on the opposite side of the bar with his arms crossed as she sipped from her glass. “What is it?”

The man shrugged. “I expected Sandor would have stayed twenty minutes before making an excuse and heading out. You got him to stay for five hours.”

Sansa nearly choked on the water. “ _Five hours?”_

Bronn squinted at her. “Yes. He got here around nine. It’s now almost two in the morning.” Sansa felt her eyes widen. She grabbed her bag and pulled out her phone. There were three different messages that she hadn’t even seen.

 **12:24 - Arya:** _Are you coming home?_

 **12:38 - Randa:** _Are you alright?_

 **1:10 - Arya:** _…No? I guess the date went well._

She told Randa that she was just fine, and Arya that she would be home soon. When she looked up again, Bronn was still there.

“Sorry.” She put her phone away. “It’s rare for him to go out?”

“Extremely. On the off chance he was forced, I could never convince him to stay out long. Osha either. She wouldn’t even try.”

“His girlfriend?”

Bronn nodded. “He told me they broke up tonight.”

Sansa was quiet for a moment and peeked in the direction Sandor went off to before turning back and whispering to Bronn. “Maybe this is none of my business, since I only just met him, but you’re his good friend. What do you think about their breaking up?”

The man shrugged again. “To be honest, I’m surprised it didn’t happen years ago. Sure Osha helped him become a little more social, even friendly. She helped him be a little less…menacing.” Sansa could see it, him being harsh. He was just so large, so intimidating. His face alone must scare people off. The thought tugged a little at her heart. The man seemed so genuine, so easy to talk to. He even got on well with Jon for a short while. _This Osha must have had her hands full._ “But the first time I saw the two of them together,” Bronn continued, “I thought they looked like brother and sister. And not so much that they look like each other. Just the way they acted. They were comfortable, but never really looked…”

“In love?” She finished for him.

Bronn nodded and from the way he straightened up and looked behind her, she could tell Sandor was back. “I better get on.” He turned and went to tend the other end of the bar.

Sandor settled himself on the stool and Sansa didn’t move away when his knee bumped into hers. Sansa thought back on the last five hours as she looked at him. This was not like her, to speak to a perfect stranger this way. To ask such personal questions, to share such intimate information. Maybe it was the alcohol and maybe it was just because they were both practically abandoned. But then he looked at her and there was some crazy voice in her head telling her that it was neither of those things.

She just felt like she needed to know him - where he grew up, how old he was, what he really preferred to do on Saturday nights, how he got his scars. She couldn’t remember the last time she was so drawn to a person before. Maybe not even Aegon. She just had to get to know him better and she figured she would try while she had the excuse of the alcohol in her system. So she started with something that had been nagging at her in the back of her mind since it happened that evening. “This girl that just broke up with you…”

“Osha.” He bent his head toward her.

“Osha. You told her you loved her. On the phone”

He clenched his teeth. “Habit I guess.” He grabbed her water and took a sip. Sansa nearly shivered thinking that his lips were in the same place that hers just were. “I do. Love her, I mean. Like she’s my best friend. She is. I guess that’s all she’s really ever been.” He looked like he was only just realizing it as he said it himself.

Sansa nodded, looking down at her hands, and looked right back up again when she realized looking down was doing her no favors.

“Such a strange concept.” Sandor muttered.

“What is?”

“Love.”

Hearing him say the word did something strange to her insides. Or maybe it was the alcohol. Probably both. “How do you mean?” She heard herself ask.

Sandor let out a groan and ran a hand over his face. “So what... you’re just supposed to find a person and you look at them and think ‘yes, that’s the one’. I’m going to spend the rest of my life attached to their side. The only one person that I am going to laugh with, to live with, to fuck, to argue with. Is that really love? Is that really what people want?”

“Yes. I mean, that’s what most people hope for.” Sansa answered simply. Sandor didn’t look convinced. It was such a bizarre topic to discuss with a stranger, but Sansa could not stop the question from escaping her mouth. “What does it mean to you? Love.”

“As in, how would I define it?” Sansa nodded and Sandor groaned again. It was another moment before he spoke. “When I’m fond of a person, when I feel comfortable with them, when I enjoy being with them. At least, that’s how it was with Osha.”

 _How dreadfully boring._ “That’s what I consider friend-love. That’s how I love my friend Randa.”

“Really? Even though she set you up on a shit date?”

“Yes. Even now.” Sansa smiled, noting that he had remembered her friend’s name.

Sandor only shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I don’t know what it really is. Maybe that’s why it never worked.” His words were serious, but his demeanor was still somewhat teasing.

Sansa chewed on her lip for a moment before her muddled brain let another question slip out. “Can I ask you something?”

He smirked. “What. All that’s not enough?”

Sansa was undeterred. “When you’re with… Osha, you never felt a warm tingling sensation in your stomach when you look at her? Almost like a tug. Like there is something about her, something you can’t explain, some force that it pulling you toward her? Making it impossible for you to be without her?

Sandor’s face became suddenly serious. He shook his head. “No.”

Sansa huffed and grabbed his arm. “Do you know what I mean, though? Can you imagine that? Have you _ever_ felt that?”

“I think I might know what you mean.” He said slowly, his eyes simmering down at her. He didn’t answer the last question.

She could feel her heartbeat in her knee where his touched hers, his pulse under her fingers. And she knew the conversation was over. There was one more thing she wanted to ask. One more thing she had never felt brave enough to ask. _What do they say in the movies? Let’s get out of here? My place or yours?_ Sansa wouldn’t dare say anything so ridiculous, but she wanted an answer all the same.

So she swallowed the lump in her throat and made herself look him straight in the eye. “Can you… can we leave?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Jennilynn for helping me with the name for the brewery! As well as wanting Arya to kick Aegon’s ass twice lol. Hope you guys like this! Let me know what you think. More to come soon! (I hope)


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